


Gotham's Finest

by badlifechoices



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe, But there are mentions of people abusing children, Identity Porn, Instead he got picked up by Gordon, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd never became Robin, Kori and Roy are sweethearts, Kori/Roy in the background, M/M, Murder, and became a cop, but I'd rather be safe than sorry, more tags might be added in the future, no explicit rape or underage, not sure how graphic the violence is gonna get
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24312433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badlifechoices/pseuds/badlifechoices
Summary: If he’s honest, Jason hasn’t thought he’d ever return to Gotham. Not after he’s worked so hard to escape the dirty streets of Crime Alley he grew up in. He’s scrubbed himself clean of the grime, has left the life as a street rat behind.He tugs at his new uniform, uncomfortable and stiff as it is and can’t help the twitch of his lips, the corner of his mouth curling upwards. It doesn’t suit him, he thinks, still after almost five years on the force he can’t bring himself to think of himself as a cop like the ones he’s despised as a kid.--Alternate Universe - Jason Todd is being transferred to the Gotham Police Department. And between the Batman and the corruption rooted deeply within the force, he ends up with more on his hands than he signed up for.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 53
Kudos: 241





	1. Chapter 1

The city’s still the same. It sounds the same, hell, it even smells the same. The heavy smoke of the factories, large chimneys towering on the outskirts, looming up against the grey sky that never seems to clear. The familiarity hits him harder than he thought, like a blow to the chest that leaves him breathless for a moment. Jason isn’t sure what he’s expected, if he’s expected anything at all. Surely he didn’t think that anything would change, not when the corruption and crime is still rooted deep underneath the multi million dollar corporations and the glamorous nightlife like a continuously growing cancer. Rumours of the new vigilante in town, that crazy guy who dresses up like a bat to scare drug dealers and pimps into submission have reached him even miles across the country. But it seems not even the infamous Batman has managed to make a dent.

If he’s honest, Jason hasn’t thought he’d ever return to Gotham. Not after he’s worked so hard to escape the dirty streets of Crime Alley he grew up in. He’s scrubbed himself clean of the grime, has left the life as a street rat behind. He doesn’t illusion himself into thinking that he’s doing something that matters now, he’s not presumptuous enough to think that one person can affect anything in this world. But for whatever it’s worth he’s trying to do the right thing and if he can help only a few people, it’s enough. He tugs at his new uniform, uncomfortable and stiff as it is and can’t help the twitch of his lips, the corner of his mouth curling upwards. It doesn’t suit him, he thinks, still after almost five years on the force he can’t bring himself to think of himself as a cop like the ones he’s despised as a kid. He vividly remembers throwing insults at the policemen out of the safety of his hiding spots, bolting at the sound of sirens. He’s met his fair share of corrupt cops back in the days, lazy, white men who thought nothing funnier than abusing their power to bend those less fortunate to their will. Too many times has he been cornered in dark alleys, too many times told that it was a shame he didn’t put his pretty mouth to better use.

“Officer Todd?” He shakes the thoughts from his head, focusing on the smiling face in front of him. A frown settles on his features, as he tries to recall the name of the man. Something along the lines of Trevor? Travis?

The other doesn’t seem offended by his lack of recognition, only too eager to introduce himself again. “Trenton Wells. Boss told me to fetch you, rumour has it you’re my new partner.” Almost, Jason thinks, as he returns the easy smile and takes the offered hand. The man’s grip is tight and it lasts for just a moment too long to be anything but a warning hidden behind a disguise of friendly words and blinding white teeth. Jason can’t help the way his skin itches when the other lets go again, suppressing the urge to wipe his palm on the fabric of his trousers.

Trenton Wells looks like the living embodiment of straight white male privilege. Blond hair slicked back, blue eyes hidden by a pair of sunglasses that are hardly necessary with Gotham’s tell-tale rainclouds hanging overhead. He carries himself easily, stance relaxed and his left hand brushing against his gun every now and then. Maybe he’s trying to make sure it’s still there but Jason gets the feeling that it’s another power thing, the guy wants to project that he’s the one in charge, the one who can shoot first and ask questions later. Everything about his blazed face makes Jason want to punch him. Instead he pushes his hand into his pocket and eyes the other travellers around him. The airport is bigger than he remembers, more crowded but even now people leave a berth for them. So Gotham’s police force is still an instrument of fear rather than protection. Another thing that hasn’t changed.

“That all you got?” The other policeman asks with a nod towards his two bags and the rucksack, one eyebrow arched in a definite gesture of judging.

Jason only nods. He never was someone who found much worth in souvenirs, collectibles, anything materialistic apart from the few worn out copies of his favourite books. So when he was told that he was being transferred it was an easy task to stuff all of his belongings into the two bags. He’s pretty sure there’s nothing about the cramped apartment in downtown LA that he’s actually going to miss, not the empty walls or the tiny kitchen or the way his window opened into a courtyard barely large enough for the laundry the other tenants would put out to dry on sunny days. He doubts things will be different here in Gotham, apart from the fact that there’s less sunshine. All he needs is a place to crash, with the long hours at the precinct he’s bound to spend more time at work than at home anyway.

“Alrighty, lemme help you with that.” Trenton, obviously irritated by his unwillingness to do small-talk, announces, the smile still in place if a bit crooked.

He hurries to pick up his rucksack and slings the strap of his travelling bag over his shoulder. Trenton grabs the other one, huffing out an exaggerated breath at the weight. “What’re you carrying around in that one? Bricks?” A shrug is all he gets in reply and the smile drops a bit further. “Not a chatty one, are you?”

The dark-haired man fakes another smile and hurries to fall into step with him as they head out of the luggage retrieval area of the airport and towards the car park. “Sorry, long flight, longer day. Just wanna crash and sleep ‘til next week.”

It must sound convincing enough because it earns him a laugh and a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I get it, man. Jus’ don’t let the bossman hear it, he’ll have your ass for even suggesting missin’ your first week.”

Jason grins in return and swallows around the bitterness in his throat. He remembers how much he hates Gotham. They store his bags in the trunk and Jason lets himself fall into the passenger seat.

Trenton, either not noticing or not caring that Jason is growing more irritated by the second, keeps blabbering on. He talks about this and that, the city and its residents, tells him about every building they pass on their way to the precinct like Jason didn’t grow up in this place and knows every street like the back of his hand. Ten minutes into their drive to the station, it begins to rain. Jason glowers at the clouds through the window and wishes he was back in LA.

He gets his new badge and gun handed by a cranky receptionist. When he asks about his locker, the woman only gestures vaguely in the direction of the staircase and effectively cuts off every attempt at conversation by turning towards the ringing phone. Jason shrugs, fixing the badge at his waist before letting his gaze wander over the inside of the building. It hasn’t changed much, he thinks, though he finds that he can hardly remember anything from the last time he was here. It probably has something to do with the way he’d been first introduced to the place. Thinking back he remembers being preoccupied with the sharp pain of the handcuffs biting into his wrists and the haze of fear and uncertainty clouding his mind. When Trenton leads him to the Commissioner’s office, he eyes the people around him, subconsciously looking for a familiar face. To his relief there’s no one he recognises, no ghost from his past jumping him. No one’s even looking at him twice. He gets a few nods here and there but no one approaches them.

The name on the plaque of the wooden office door has his mouth go dry. Commissioner Gordon. Talking about familiar faces, there’s one he’s been anxious about meeting ever since he was told about his transferral. Trenton, oblivious to his sudden nervousness, knocks and pushes the door open. Jim Gordon looks different, older, worn out and most of all tired. But there’s still a sharpness to his gaze when it settles on the newcomer. Honestly, Jason wasn’t sure what to expect from this encounter but he certainly isn’t prepared for the warm smile the older man gives him. “Officer Todd. It’s good to see you again.” Jason swallows around the lump in his throat and hurries to shake the Commissioner’s hand.

“Yeah, it’s nice to be back.” They both know it’s a lie but Gordon only nods. Jason remembers that he still hasn’t thanked him. For everything, getting him off the streets, not arresting him for petty theft and pulling what had to be an insane amount of strings to get him into the Academy once he’d finished his high school degree.

But the older man doesn’t mention any of it. Doesn’t acknowledge their shared past with any further word. Instead he asks: “Do you have a place to stay yet?”

He’s found a tiny apartment, low rent, bad neighbourhood. At least that’s what he’s got from the advertisement, the landlady seemed only too happy to get the place off her hands when he called so he figures it’ll be anything but fancy. Not that he cares very much, he can always look for something else once he’s settled. If he’s honest he’s still hoping that someone will notice that they’ve made a mistake in asking for him and he’ll be sent back again. Keeping his thoughts to himself he only nods, returning the Commissioner’s smile when the man tells him that he’s looking forward to working with him. With that the conversation is over, he follows Trenton out of the office.

His new partner is all too happy to show him around, introducing him to some of their colleagues. He tries to remember the names of the first few hands he shakes but after a while he gives up. Considering he’ll be working with these people he’ll pick them up sooner or later anyway. Trenton shows him the lab, the archive, the weapons locker and finally his desk. It’s a poor excuse of a working space, cramped with piles of folders and files everywhere. When Jason raises an eyebrow at the mess, the blond only shrugs. “No one’s used that desk in months.” He turns around and calls out to one of the other police officers. “Hey Janet, get that stuff off his desk, will ya, the man has to work somewhere!” The woman only shrugs and mutters something. Trenton gives her a wide grin in return before he looks at Jason again. “Don’ worry, it’ll be off your desk by tomorrow. You need a ride to your place?”

Jason wants to decline the offer because he can’t wait to get away from this man and his constant chattering but even he has no desire to walk the whole way with the two heavy bags. “That’d be great.” He only says, being rewarded with an approving nod and Trenton’s loud announcement that he’s taking ‘the new kid home’ and will be back asap. Jason doubts that anyone’s even listening to him but it seems to have satisfied his partner because he saunters out of the room and towards the lockers.

Jason’s about to leave his weapon in his locker when Trenton grasps his arm. “Take it with ya, Gotham’s a different plaster than LA you’re gonna need it. People here don’ take too kindly to our kind, ‘s long as you’re in uniform you might as well have a target painted on your back.” Jason opens his mouth to protest but shuts it before any of the words can escape his mouth. As much as he hates to admit it, the other is probably right, Gotham’s on top of the list for police killings. You’re on the other side of the line now, he thinks to himself as he pushes the gun back into its holster. A line that, according to Trenton’s words is not only perfectly clear but also unchallengeable, dividing them from everyone else in the city.

The apartment building looks even worse than he’s imagined. It’s run-down, the facades are dark with decades of dirt and grime and some of the windows on the ground floor have been covered with tarps to hide that the glass is broken. It’s obvious from the state of the plastic that the tarps have been up for a while as though no one cares enough to fix the damage. He escapes the comment that Trenton obviously wants to utter by thanking him for the ride and climbing out of the car. The man doesn’t offer to help him get his stuff upstairs and Jason has never been more grateful for anything in his life, almost. He waits until the police car is out of sight before he makes his way to the front door. It’s not locked and the noise the hinges make when he pushes it open resonates in his bones. He manoeuvres the bags inside and lets it fall shut behind him. With one hand, he fishes the keys out of his pocket together with the scrap of paper he’s scribbled the apartment number on earlier.

He’s barely made it up the steps to the third floor, when he hears a door slamming shut. Before he can react, someone crashes into him, causing him to drop his bags and wave his arms to keep his balance. “Oh man, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there, you okay?” The stranger doesn’t seem sorry at all, freckled face practically glowing with a grin so wide it almost reaches his ears. The man lifts a hand to brush the messy red hair away from his eyes. In the dim light of the hallway his features are knife-sharp, strangely reminding Jason of someone he’s met ages ago.

“Don’t worry, nothing’s broken. Yet.” He reaches for the bags he’s dropped.

If the stranger is taken aback by his response, he doesn’t show it, only breathes an exaggerated sigh of relief before eyeing the bags curiously. “You’re moving into 2B?”

When Jason nods, his face lights up even more. “New neighbour! My name’s Roy, Roy Harper. I told Kory there’d be someone moving in but she wouldn’t believe me. You’re a cop?”

And maybe it’s his imagination but Harper’s tone of voice changes ever so slightly at that. “Jason Todd. I’m starting tomorrow so technically I’m not on duty.”

The redhead hums, then, with a glance at his battered wristwatch let’s out a cry. “Fuck, I’m late. Anyway, nice meeting you Jay, I gotta run.”

Before he can object to the use of his least favourite nickname, the man is rushing down the stairs. He considers shouting after him for a moment but discards the thought quickly enough. Instead he follows the apartment numbers down the hallway.

The apartment isn’t much, actually it’s less than that. It’s as run down as the rest of the building and Jason thinks that whoever advertised the place as ‘furbished’ should probably look up the definition in a dictionary at some point. At least there are no broken windows and the door can be locked. He drops his bag onto the table in the kitchen that looks about as ready to give up as he feels and ventures into the bathroom. He tries his best to ignore the stains in the shower because he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to examine them closer. His reflection stares at him out of the cracked mirror as though it’s asking him why he ever thought that going back to Gotham was a good idea. For the record, he didn’t, he’s not even certain why he accepted the transfer.

He drags himself into the bedroom. There’s an old mattress pushed against one of the walls that looks suspiciously like something has died on it. Given the neighbourhood that isn’t even very unlikely. He cracks open the door of the closet, relieved or maybe surprised when he doesn’t find any cockroaches or rats. After a moment of consideration he drapes his coat over the mattress before he lies down. His stomach is growling, with the last thing he’s eaten being the terrible instant food on the airplane, he feels the hunger gnawing at his insides. For a moment he considers going out to pick something up at the diner across the street but the exhaustion of the day leaves his limbs heavy as stone. He finds a few chocolate bars in his rucksack and settles on watching some mindless action flick on his laptop until he’s too tired to keep his eyes open.

The familiar noises of the city outside are like a lullaby to him, embracing him with a whisper of ‘welcome home’.


	2. Chapter 2

As it turns out Roy Harper doesn’t so much hold a grudge against cops as he hates all kinds of authority. He mumbles something about past experiences and people fucking you over. Jason doesn’t ask just as he doesn’t mention the obvious scars on the inside of the redhead’s elbow. Needles. He hates needles ever since the first time he caught his mother shooting up… Roy seems grateful for it, invites him for a drink and when Jason reluctantly agrees, he drags him along to meet his girlfriend. Kory is really sweet if a bit odd in her immediate acceptance of the stranger. “Roy likes you.” Is all she says and Jason feels a tiny bit like she’s just adopted him because after he admits that he doesn’t have a blanket yet she goes hunting for any spare sheets, pillows and blankets they might have lying around.

Roy just shrugs and hands him a beer before pulling him over to the couch. “She hates the cold.” Jason thinks there’s more behind it but he leaves it be, knowing better than to ruin his first impression with intrusive and overly personal questions.

Jason leaves Roy’s apartment with a heap of blankets and pillows and a pot full of soup that Kory claims will keep him warm. He finds out that she meant it literally when the first spoonful burns his tongue badly enough he thinks he won’t be tasting anything for the next days. He reminds himself to ask her what kind of spices she put in that because it’s _hot._

Kory helps him pick out a new bed at IKEA a few days later and Roy somehow manages to assemble it with half as many screws as are included in the set. He promises that it’ll hold up and Jason finds to his surprise that it actually does.

* * *

It takes him a week to realise that the precinct isn’t as different from the one in LA as he’s expected. He still can’t exactly see past his bias but he starts to think that he can actually work with these people. Most of them aren’t half bad. The other half, well there’s a reason why Trenton Wells fits in so perfectly with some of them. Jason really can’t stand the man and he doesn’t think that’ll ever change. He’s a lying cheat and Jason is sure that his wife either knows or doesn’t want to know it because Trenton doesn’t exactly hide the fact that he’s ‘banging that hot babysitter chick’ who’s about half as old as he is. Jason thinks that she deserves better and so does the guy’s wife but it’s not his place to act so he keeps his mouth shut.

It’s easier than he thought to fall back into the routine of his work. The streets still feel different. They’re no less hostile than they were years ago and it seems that behind every corner lurks a shadow waiting to haunt him with memories of a time he’s thought left behind. And yet he can’t help but wonder if he would’ve ever been able to leave the city behind for good. Gotham’s a part from him, living and breathing inside him. Once more it sinks its claws into him, gentle and yet insisting on never letting him go again.

He’s unpacked his bags and the apartment is still empty, blank walls accusingly staring down at him. There’s a single photograph, sitting abandoned in its silver frame on his kitchen table. He’s not sure why he even kept it, the smiling faces seem so out of place in this city that doesn’t feel like home. But he can’t bring himself to throw it away or even leave it at the bottom of his travelling bag. He remembers the day they took it, though he was barely old enough to understand what was going on. His mother is there, one arm around his shoulders and she’s smiling into the camera. He too is smiling, smiling at his father behind the camera who looks so proud of his little boy, his little family. That was before he got himself involved with the gangs, before everything went down the drain and the angelic smile bled from his mother’s face.

They’ve been on patrol near the harbour his first week and none of their calls had taken them to Crime Alley, something he’s secretly thankful for. Jason knows that he can’t avoid the trip down memory lane forever but he hopes he can prolong the inevitable for just a bit longer.

It’s Friday, the second week since he arrived in the city and he is crouched over his desk, trying to work through the batch of reports he’s been assigned. He’s exhausted, the words dancing on the page and he’s pretty sure his handwriting has turned into an intelligible scrawl over the course of the last hour. Not that it matters, as Trenton has informed him no one really looks at their reports twice unless it’s a case of utmost importance. But he insists on doing this right. Jason would never agree to his partner’s ‘you’re the good cop to my bad cop’ because he thinks the entire concept is bullshit. If the people can’t trust them to stick to the law then they can’t trust anyone.

“Jay!” He groans at the use of his least favourite nickname, the ‘I told you to stop calling me that’ burning on his tongue as he looks up. Speak of the devil, he thinks to himself, gaze falling on his partner who’s leaning against the side of his desk, his tell-tale shit-eating grin plastered over his face. Trenton leans forward to throw a look at his reports and rolls his eyes. “Come on man, you’ve been at this for hours. Can still finish the stuff on Monday the pay for overtime is shit, you know.”

It’s not like he has anything better to do, he almost replies. Roy and Kory have announced that they’re going on a date that night but that they would be thrilled to show Jason around their favourite places on Saturday. So the only things waiting for him are the leftovers in the fridge and the new season of Game of Thrones. “I’m just gonna finish this and then I’m off…” Before he can even finish his sentence, Trenton snatches the file from his desk.

As though he didn’t hear what Jason has been saying, he closes the file and drops it on the pile to his right before he continues talking: “The boys and I are gonna grab a few drinks, you should join us.”

The arch of his eyebrows convey just how much this is more of an order than a question and Jason knows that if he fucks up with his colleagues this early on, he’s not going to have a decent day at the precinct for the rest of his employment here. So, with the words tasting like acid on his tongue, he says, through gritted teeth: “Sure. I’m not gonna drive your drunken ass home tho.”

Trenton grins, baring all of his artificially white teeth and leaning in to slam a heavy hand onto Jason’s shoulder. “Good man! And don’t worry, we get discounts with the cabs ‘round here. They know who’s keeping their streets clean from all the trash.”

The way he says that make the dark-haired man want to punch him square in the jaw, but he only gives him a sceptical look in return. More like the cabdrivers are trying to stay on the good side of these whackos. Since it’s not exactly easy to tell the good cops from the bad cops just by looking at them. And seriously, if it weren’t for people like Gordon, who are actually trying to make a difference instead of just abusing the corrupt system, he really wouldn’t want to be associated with the force at all.

Hell, he knows it’s going to be way harder than he imagined when he was younger. Back then he believed that all he had to do was get through the academy and then he could go back and kick out every last one of the scumbags, the power and money hungry creeps.

Grabbing his jacket, he follows Trenton outside where the rest of the guys are waiting already. Of course, they didn’t invite any of the women. They’re a true boys club and would be hard pressed to accept anyone who isn’t a straight white dude into their midst.

The thought makes him grin, shoving his hands into his pockets, as he makes no effort to catch up with them. Maybe he should drop a hint about how much he loves to suck dick, just to see the reaction. He’s never made a secret out of his sexual orientation and he’s not about to start now. He just doesn’t like mixing his personal life with his job at all. Though it would be funny to see the look on Trenton’s face.

An arm is slung over his shoulder and he finds himself crowded into Dan’s side. The senior officer stands about a foot taller than him and tries his best to look like one of those brick-shithouse guys. With his bulging, steroid fertilised muscles and a face in the shape of a cube, he’s about the least attractive person in the whole precinct.

“Todd! We haven’t had the time to chat since you started out here. I take it Wells here explained to you how things work ‘round here.” The grin on the man’s face is surprisingly friendly, though Jason is pretty sure it’s just because he hasn’t danced out of line yet.

Trenton, clearly having overheard the question shows up on Jason’s other side, giving Dan a slap on the arm. “Come on, man, give him a break. The kid’s alright, just gotta learn how to relax a little.” There is a moment of silence and the younger officer feels like he has been dragged right into the crossfire of some kind of internal power struggle between the two men because the air is suddenly thick enough to cut with a knife.

But after a moment, Dan grins and pats his back hard enough to make him stumble a little. “Don’t worry, Todd, we take care of our own.”

And if that isn’t a thinly veiled threat, then nothing is. Dan moves on to join the rest of the group in their mindless chatter, while Trenton remains at his side. “Don’t mind them, they like messing around with the newbies. Bet you haven’t had any of that with the golden boys in LA.” He laughs, as though he finds himself to be particularly funny.

Then he grows a little more serious. “On the real tho, this is a different kinda city, you gotta understand. Here you stick together, or you get killed by some mobster or some masked loony. We don’t do anything to compromise our colleagues and they do you the same favour. ‘S long as you got this, you’ll be fine.”

 _You’re either with us or against us._ Jason knows that kind of mentality all too well. He nods. “Got it.”

“Atta boy!” Trenton pats his shoulder encouragingly and then hollers loud enough for people on the other side of the street to turn their heads: “First round’s on me, boys! Let’s give our new fella here a proper welcome.”

* * *

It turns out that a proper welcome includes Jason watching the others get smashed and has to suffer through their bad attempts at flirting with just about anyone in a skirt. Despite his own buzz that he’s got going – the only possible way of surviving this kind of socialising – he finds himself more and more appalled by the sight.

“I’m gonna go for a smoke,” he finally announces, getting up and grabbing his jacket before any of them can say that they’ll join him. He squeezes himself through the crowd of drunk people and busy bar staff towards the exit.

The cool, fresh air embraces him and it’s a welcome change from the stuffiness inside the building. Taking a deep breath, he walks a few steps away from the door, enjoying the way the night draws in the salty air from the sea. Pushing a cigarette between his lips with one hand, he searches his pockets for his lighter with the other.

“Need a light?” There are a couple people standing around on the sidewalk, so the voice doesn’t startle him, but he does look up in surprise. A young man is standing in front of him, clean shaven face cast in shadow by a baseball cap and what looks like a nasty scar twisting his upper lip. He’s not ugly but not really his type either, Jason figures.

Nevertheless, he takes the offered lighter, bringing the flame to his cigarette and breathing in deeply before handing it back. “Thanks man.”

He expects the stranger to leave, considering that he’s clearly not showing any interest in a conversation, but the man lingers, lighting his own smoke before tucking the lighter away again. “You having a good time? Your friends sure are from the looks of it.”

Jason raises an eyebrow, now giving the other a closer look over. “You were watching me?”

The man grins, rubbing the back of his neck. “Spot on, officer. I was just curious. The others are here all the time, but I haven’t seen you before.”

“Got transferred,” Jason replies carefully. He already figured that the other police officers frequent this place, so it’s not really surprising to encounter people who know them. If the dude really is just curious, there’s nothing really sinister about it but there’s an uneasy feeling simmering in his gut. “Wouldn’t call them my friends either.”

A loud clattering noise from around the street corner draws his attention away from the stranger, and he instinctively reaches for his gun. The man in front of him backs of a step, raising his hands. “Whoa there! It’s probably just a racoon or something. They keep the trashcans back there, ya know.”

Jason ignores him, pushing past him without another word and walking up to the street corner. He’s noticed the small alleyway when they first got here but didn’t pay it much attention.

Just as he takes another step, he hears a muffled shout ant then another loud clatter. Without hesitation, he frees his gun from the holster and levels it, rounding the corner quickly with a shouted: “Gotham PD!”

He’s not sure what he expected, but his stomach drops, when he sees the young woman surrounded by the five men. She’s struggling, clearly trying to scream past the hand that is clamped over her mouth. Her eyes are wide and fearful, tears streaming over her face and Jason knows that she’s begging for his help without having to hear a single word.

One of the men doesn’t react to him at all, instead punches the girl in the stomach, causing her to double over. She already looks to be in bad condition, her face and limbs bruised badly and she’s bleeding from several small cuts. One of her legs looks suspiciously like it’s broken, figuring from the unnatural way that it’s twisted.

Jason feels a wave of rage wash through him. “Police,” he shouts again, putting as much authority into his words as he can. “Let her go and put your hands against the wall or else you’ll be in a world of hurt.”

The closest of the assailants laughs, waving his hands in a dismissive gesture. “What, you gonna shoot all of us, kid? Just look the other way man, she owes us big money. If you play nice, we’ll give you a cut, how ‘bout that huh?”

“First class assault and attempted bribery of a cop. Keep talking and I’ll add to the charges they’re gonna slap on your sorry ass in court.”

The man only laughs again. “Lookie here, we got a good boy. Don’t you know all the cops turn their eyes around this corner. Our boss has a deal. So, you better get out before you get in trouble with your buddies in blue.”

Jason grits his teeth. “I said. Get your hands off her. And put them on the wall.”

He moves his other hand to reach for his radio to call in backup, but the man’s words concern him. He knows the corruption in the GPD is rooted deeply and there’s dozens of cops being paid off by some scumbag or another. So, how can he know if he’s calling the right people for help?

It’s the moment of hesitation that proves fatal. Just as he makes up his mind to try and get help anyway, something hard hits the back of his head with enough force to make the world go dark around him for a moment.

_Fuck._

He staggers, stumbling forward in an attempt to keep his balance, as everything around him is spinning wildly. Sickness churns in his stomach, the alcohol and the trauma threatening to overwhelm him.

Just barely he manages to hold onto his gun but by the time his vision stops blurring, he’s on his knees, the dude who lent him his lighter earlier standing over him with a wide grin. “Told ya it’s nothing. Shoulda listened to me, man.”

Jason grunts, swallowing a mouthful of bile and trying to force himself back onto his feet. “Fucking-“

His sentence is cut off, when a shadow passes overhead. For a moment he thinks, he’s still messed up from the hit he took but when he blinks, he sees the same shadow again. Only this time, it’s descending from the rooftop straight into the small alleyway.

Gravel crunches as something heavy lands just behind him.

The man in front of him retreats, eyes wide in recognition and fear. “Yo, yo man I didn’t do nothin. It’s all them!”

Jason immediately knows why the crook’s so afraid. He can feel the almost overwhelming presence before he sees him.

A tall figure, from his point of view on the ground almost looming, steps past him, dark cape brushing against Jason’s shoulder and heavy boots thundering on the ground. He doesn’t have to see the black mask with the pointed ears to know just _who_ just interrupted their little get-together.

The dark knight obscures his view, but Jason can tell from the sounds alone what’s going on. There’s shouts and screams, the useless clinking of a knife against armour and a series of dull thuds.

Slowly pulling himself up to his feet, Jason sees that three of the men are already knocked out, one with a broken arm, the other with a twisted leg and the third with a sizeable head wound that doesn't look fatal but would hospitalise him for quite a while.

They’re all secured with a thick rope that doesn’t look like anything Jason’s ever seen. Possibly some military grade shit, or something.

The other three are on the run but Jason doubts they will get away from the Batman. He’s heard plenty of stories about Gotham’s famous vigilante and while he’s certain that they’re all exaggerated to hell and back, he has the feeling that the caped crusader is at least somewhat competent in what he does.

His priority in this moment is the victim, and he shoves his gun back into the holster, staggering towards the woman. “Hey, hey, you alright?”

There’s no response. She’s collapsed on the floor and for a moment he fears for the worst but when he reaches for her neck, he finds a pulse. Her chest is moving slightly, and there’s a slight rasp in her almost inaudible breathing. But she’s alive at least. He doesn’t dare to try to wake her from her unconsciousness. Nor does he want to move her, in case those assholes damaged her spine.

Instead, he grabs his radio and calls for the EMS. He mentions the woman and the wounded thugs but leaves out his own injury. Yeah, no, he’s not going to end up in the hospital after his second week of working here. He’s dealt with worse on his own, it’ll be fine.

A noise makes him flinch and look up, fingers flying to his gun. It’s Batman. The vigilante is standing at the other end of the alley, observing him for a moment. Then, he takes a few steps forward to eye both Jason and the injured woman.

“The other three are secured one block down. You won’t have any trouble finding them.” His voice is dark and raspy and for some reason it sends a shiver running down Jason’s spine. He didn’t expect his first meeting with the Bat to go down like this. Hell, he hasn’t actually considered meeting the guy.

He clears his throat, not sure if he’s supposed to offer his hand or something like that. “Alright. I already called it in. You better get outta here.”

Batman doesn’t move, his expression impossible to read under the mask and with the darkness of the shadow surrounding him. “You’re new.”

 _Yeah, and apparently, it’s the most obvious thing in the world,_ Jason thinks to himself. “How would you know?” He snaps back. Okay, maybe he’s being a little rude but he’s not about to be lectured on how to act around Gotham again. He knows this place, has been in placed only the street rats know and had to survive surrounded by criminals and uncaring social workers.

Again, there’s no reaction, not even a change of tone in the other’s voice. “I keep an eye on the Police Department.”

 _That totally doesn’t sound suspicious at all, hell no._ But before he can say anything in return, the howling of sirens interrupts them.

“Look out for yourself. Gotham is a dangerous place,” Batman says, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of the approaching EMTs. With that, he fires a grappling hook at one of the roofs and disappears into the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's THE BATMAN  
> And listen, of course Jason had to be rude to him that's just how he is 
> 
> On a scale of 1 - Jason Todd at the end of this chapter how done are you with your job?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason bonds with his new neighbours, gets grilled by his superiors and finally runs into someone he certainly didn't expect.
> 
> warnings: (jason throws up in the beginning, no detailed descriptions - mentions of injuries tho nothing graphic here either)

He takes a taxi home, a wet dishrag pressed against the back of his head. The world is still woozy around him, but he managed to hide his injury from everyone else and escape the questioning for the night. Of course, he’ll have to hand in a proper report on everything tomorrow, but he’ll burn that bridge when he gets to it.

Stumbling a little, Jason pushes through the front door and drags himself up the stairs. He doesn’t pay any attention to where he’s walking, so it’s not much of a surprise, when he runs smack into someone in the hallway.

“Yo, Jay, what’s up?” Roy is peering at him from under his baseball cap, messy red hair poking out in all directions. “Wow, man, you look like shit! The fuck happened to you?”

And Jason is seriously not in the mood for explanations or any social interaction for that matter, so he just grunts and walks around the other man, making a beeline for his door.

He doesn’t get very far because a hand reaches for his arm and keeps him in place. “Wait up! Lemme take a look at that. I got experience with stitching folks up.”

Jason squints at him for a moment, wondering if it’s really worth arguing over because he’s realised quickly enough that Roy is about as stubborn as he himself is and there’s no way he’s going to let that go easily. Then he sighs, shrugs his shoulders an allows the redhead to drag him into the neighbouring apartment.

Kori is sitting cross-legged on the backrest of the couch, watching TV with a big bowl of popcorn in her lap. She waves at them when they enter and her face scrunches up in a worried expression when she sees the state Jason is in. “Are you alright?”

He grunts again, giving her a thumbs up. “Just peachy.”

The woman gives her a sceptical look and there’s a strange warmth in Jason’s chest. He’s not used to having people who worry about him, so this is kind of a first for him. Honestly, he has no clue how to deal with it. But it does kind of feel… nice.

Roy returns and ushers him to sit down on one of their two old kitchen chairs that don’t exactly look trustworthy but surprisingly enough hold his weight. He has a bowl of hot water in one hand and a few towels in the other. “Gotta clean that up first. Looks nasty,” he explains before motioning for Jason to bow his head.

The other is surprisingly gentle, when he gets to work on the back of his head, carefully cleaning up the dirt and dried blood and checking his scalp for any further injuries. “You got a few bumps here, been through the ringer before?”

That earns him a huff. “You could say that.” Jason doesn’t know how many scars he has from wounds that were never treated, a few he received in the line of duty but most of them are from his time on the streets. Surviving off stealing didn’t always work out so well. But he still liked the violent ones better than the creepy ones who made him do other things to get out of trouble.

He pushes the thought aside, not keen on following his memories down that rabbit hole. Instead of adding anything else, he remains quiet and Roy seems to understand that it’s not the best topic to talk about.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Kori slide off the couch gracefully, wandering over to them and taking a seat on the unoccupied chair. Without a word, she offers him the bowl of popcorn and he can’t help the smile that tugs at one corner of his mouth, as he shoves his hand into the bowl. With his mouth stuffed full of sweet popcorn, he wonders just how much the three of them have in common. They all seem like misfits somehow, outsiders who don’t quite fit in with the rest of the world. And he’s getting the feeling that both Kori and Roy have their own dark patches in their pasts that they’d rather not talk about.

Once Roy is satisfied with the cleaning, he moves to grab a small kit from the kitchen. “I’m gonna stitch it up for you. Kori, would you grab the rum?”

With a nod, the woman is off her chair and hurrying over to a cupboard next to the TV. She returns just a moment later with a half-empty bottle of Captain Morgan. Without hesitating, Jason takes it from her hand and takes a long drink, shuddering a little at the taste. After a second swig, he hands the bottle back and closes his eyes.

After a few minutes of silence, he gives Roy the thumbs up, figuring that the alcohol will hit sooner rather than later, considering he already has quite a bit in his blood.

He clenches his fists and grits his teeth, as the other begins to swiftly sew the small wound shut. It’s over way quicker than he expected and a part of him wants to ask, where exactly Roy learned his way around this kind of stuff. But he leaves that for another time because with the added rum and the pounding headache, he feels sickness churning in his stomach, and he feels about ready to pass out.

“Stop by tomorrow morning, alright? We still up for hanging out tomorrow? If you need to sleep through the day we get it.” Roy gently wraps a bandage around his head, before taking a step back and eyeing his work with satisfaction.

Jason grunts, shrugging his shoulders. “Gotta head t’the precinct. Not sure how long it’s gonna take.” He already dreads having to tell his tale to his supervisors and the pages long report he will most certainly have to fill out. “I’ll hit you guys up ‘s soon ‘s I’m done.”

He already has both of their phone numbers since the last weekend. “Just one thing-“ he adds, as he heaves himself up out of his chair in order to head back to his own apartment. “No drinkin’ just for a couple days.”

Kori snickers at that and Roy gives him a grin. “Aye, Captain.”

Jason throws up a hand in a weak imitation of a wave, before dragging himself across the hallway and towards his door.

* * *

He wakes up four hours later with a headache that is trying to split his skull in two and makes it to the bathroom just in time to not throw up all over his floor. _Great start into the day, I’m digging it already._

With a groan, he sinks to his knees with his hands still on the rim of the toilet, thanking himself inwardly for being such a neat freak that he kept his bathroom very clean. From the other room he can hear his phone vibrate but he has neither the energy, nor the desire to go get it. Instead, he leans his head against the cold wall, staring at the ugly tiles and wishing the sickness to go away.

Jason dozes off like that, unable to keep himself awake for very long. He dimly registers a creak from the bedroom, but he’s too far gone to pay it any mind.

His head is still aching, when his stomach has finally calmed down and he manages to get back on his feet. Knowing he’ll regret it otherwise; he brushes his teeth before heading back to bed.

There’s a pack of painkillers sitting on the cheap desk he found at a garage sale the week before and he frowns, trying to recall if he left them there. Lacking the brain capacity to think anything of it, he pops two pills into his mouth and washes them down by downing a bottle of water out of the fridge.

 _Here’s to not feeling like complete shit,_ he thinks, letting himself fall back onto the mattress and burying his face in the pillow. With heavy eyelids, he pats the bed to find his phone and squints into the bright light of the screen.

He’s got a message from Commissioner Gordon and for a moment he’s afraid that he fucked up big time. But as soon as he reads the words; he feels a wave of gratefulness wash through him. There’s one good cop in this city at least.

* * *

* * *

When he wakes up the next time, his headache has thankfully eased up a little. He still feels queasy though, the kind that every hangover brings along, only that it’s probably less due to his alcohol intake and more due to the possible concussion. Well, in his experience, there’s only one sure-fire way to get rid of this.

Maybe thirty minutes later, he’s knocking on his neighbours’ door, three big bags of greasy fast food in his arms. Kori opens, her hair an absolute mess and she practically lights up, when she sees him. “Roy!” She shouts over her shoulder, as she lets him in. “Jason is here!”

A loud _thud_ emanates from the bedroom and a moment later Roy stumbles into the living room, wearing a whole of one sock, boxers and a shirt with countless holes. He takes one look at the brown paper bags and grins. “Now, that’s what neighbourly love is all about. Breakfast!”

Neither of the two redheads seems to care that nothing of what Jason brought is particularly common breakfast food. He picked up some burgers, loaded fries, burritos and strawberry milkshakes for the three of them. The latter is his favourite flavour but since he had no clue what the two like, he just got the same for everyone. But he gets no complaints, so it seems to work out just fine.

The more of the greasy food he gets into his stomach the less queasy he feels, and he quietly thanks his roommate at the academy who taught him this cure. A true lifesaver.

Once they’re all full and lazily slurping on their shakes while picking at the remaining fries, Jason remembers something. “What do you guys know about the Batman?”

Roy almost chokes on his drink and doubles over coughing, causing both Kori and Jason to jump into action. They both slap his back heartily until the man shoos them away. “Enough, enough! You’re gonna give me bruises.”

He clears his throat and looks up, tears glinting in his eyes and a disbelieving expression on his face. “Don’t tell me you don’t know about Batman?”

Jason rolls his eyes. “’Course I know _of_ him. I just wanna know if there’s anything aside from rumours and whack conspiracy theories. What’s he like and stuff, y’know?”

“Roy has met him,” Kori says like it’s nothing particularly out of the ordinary and she’s much more interested in slurping up the last few drops of her drink.

Roy shrugs. “Wouldn’t call it meet exactly. I used to live with some… bad company at the time. One night he just shows up and starts tearing the place apart. Turned out someone in the place was dealing more than just some weed. Batman broke his hip and then left him for the pigs- sorry,” he looks up at Jason, clearly worried to have offended him, who only shrugs in response.

“Cops are assholes, man. Probably can count all the decent cops I met on two hands.”

That makes the other man grin with a thumbs up, before he continues his tale. “Well, dude comes up to me and grabs me. And he’s strong enough to just pick me up with one hand and he has this super dark, demonic voice. He looks me in the eyes and goes “if you don’t stop this shit, you’re gonna end up like that one. Now get out of here”. Pretty sure I pissed myself at that point and he just drops me on the ground. ‘Course I got the hell outta there and just in time before the cops swarm the place and take everyone in.”

Jason wonders if that’s the reason Roy got off the drugs, but he doesn’t voice his thoughts. “Man, he sounds like a best,” he only responds. He’s not quite sure why he doesn’t tell the two about his own encounter with the Bat, but some instinct tells him to keep it on the down low for now. It’s enough that probably the entire police department knows already.

They spend another couple of hours speculating about what kind of person would be crazy enough to dress up as a giant bat and hunt down criminals. The three of them agree that they all think the vigilante is good work though and neither of them thinks that the politicians have any right to criticise him after letting the city come to this state.

In the end the trio decides not to go out after all and instead laze their day away in front of the TV. They order Pizza in the evening, on Roy since Jason paid for breakfast, and laugh until their bellies hurt over some terrible slap-stick comedy series.

It’s a relaxed day and Jason can almost forget that he has to drag his ass to work the next day, his weekend cut short thanks to some assholes. Somehow, it’s strange that things are this… familiar to him, even though they only met two and a half weeks ago. 

Maybe he’s gotten lucky for once or maybe they know each other from some alternate universe or past life. It’s not like he particularly believes in the latter, but he has read an article once about how some people at Starlabs claimed to have proven the existence of multiple other universes. Jason grins at the cheesiness of his own thoughts and focuses on sucking the last bit of tomato sauce off his fingers.

They watch another two episodes before Kori starts yawning and Jason decides it’s time to head back to his own apartment. So, he bids the two goodnight and makes his way over to the door. Roy stops him halfway there, to check on the back of his head again. “Looking good. You heal quickly.”

“It’s ‘cause I have a thick head,” Jason jokes and Roy pats his shoulder.

“Good to know, I’ll keep it in mind.” The redhead grins and waves him off, as he leaves.

Jason shuffles across the hallway and unlocks his door. He peers into the living room, a strange feeling creeping into his mind. But when he steps forward, throwing his keys onto the shelf and taking a good look around, he finds nothing out of the ordinary. The feeling dissipates as quickly as it hit him and he throws himself onto his bed, relishing the comfort.

“I love you,” he mutters to the mattress, burying his face in his pillow for a moment before lazily peeling himself out of his clothes. As much as he already cherishes Kori and Roy, he now feels utterly drained from all the social interaction and the thought of a quiet night with a good book sounds just about heavenly.

He grabs the colourful softcover novel that he’s picked up just two days before and flips to where he left off last time. Jason isn’t yet convinced if he actually likes the author, who in a review has been compared to Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte. But in his opinion, they don’t even come close to the classics. And he’s pretty sure he’s devoured enough Victorian dramas and romance novels to have somewhat of an experienced taste.

The thought reminds him that there’s a new period drama on Netflix he still wanted to check out and he promises himself that he can binge that the next day, as a reward of surviving whatever hellish report he’ll have to deal with.

* * *

He gets grilled for three hours straight the next day, asked over and over again why he decided to engage alone without calling for backup first. It’s not like he expected anything else but it’s still gruelling and after two hours he feels about ready to just throw down his badge and walk out of there.

“I told you already. It was six of them and if I didn’t step in, they were gonna kill that lady.” “How the fuck am I supposed to know why Batman showed up to save the day? It’s not like I have him on speed dial or anything.” “I couldn’t ask for help from my colleagues at the scene because they were fucking _wasted_!” “No, I had no intention of engaging in the fight I just saw them beat someone to a pulp and figured, hey, maybe I should stop them cuz that’s kinda in my job description.”

When the investigation is finally over, he feels like an old sponge that someone squeezed a little too vigorously after a hot bath. Soggy and worn out. And there’s still the report he has to write on the incident. As important as bureaucracy is, sometimes he hates it with a passion. Especially since half of the time it doesn’t stop people from falsifying information anyway.

The only good thing the interrogation brought him was that he found out the name of the victim and that she’s currently being treated at Gotham Central Hospital.

* * *

He makes it out of the station around five and the sky is dark and threatening to release a downpour of apocalyptic dimension upon the city. Jason frowns, disregarding the idea to take a bus and walk the rest and instead asks one of his colleagues to drop him off on her way.

Madison Reed. Jason hasn’t yet made up his mind whether he likes her or now, but she seems less of a scumbag than some of their colleagues. And from what he’s heard, she prefers the archives over actual field work, and he can respect that.

She lets him out in the street in front of the hospital and he walks the rest of the way, flashing his badge at the receptionist who points him towards the right room without so much as a question about his motif for being here.

He steps into the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor, just as a tall man joins him inside.

He’s holding a large bouquet of flowers in his arm and flashes Jason a blinding smile. The stranger looks oddly familiar but, in a way, that Jason can’t place. He could swear he’s seen the man somewhere before, but he has no clue where or who the fuck he is. He sports broad shoulders, clearly hiding well defined muscles under his perfectly fitted suit and his eyes are a clear blue that sends a shiver down Jason’s spine. However, he hurries to look away, as soon as the other turns his head, unwilling to get caught staring.

A few more people crowd into the elevator on the next floor, forcing them closer together and he can catch a whiff of an aftershave that reminds him of smoky wood. It’s smooth on the nose, strangely entrancing in a way that is certainly intended. The elevator gives a little shudder and Jason instinctively reaches out to hold onto the railing, only to find himself grasping a warm hand instead. “’M sorry,” he mutters, hastily pulling back. He makes the mistake of looking up and finds himself caught right in the curious gaze of those blue eyes. And fuck, there’s no denying it, this dude is definitely his type.

Jason opens his mouth to say something, but the ping of the elevator cuts him off and he almost breathes in relief, when he glances at the display that shows a bright red 3. “This is me,” he just says and squeezes himself past the other visitors into the hallway. He only realises that he didn’t see the other press any button, when he sees him exit the elevator behind him.

For a moment he hesitates, then he reminds himself that he’s not here to flirt with hot guys. It’s a hospital for fuck’s sake, you don’t know if that dude is here to visit his dying wife or something. Though he does look a little too cheerful for something like that.

He hurries to push the thought aside and amble along the hallway instead, trying to find the right room. Finally, he stands in front of room 315 and pulls at his uniform jacket. Well, here comes the part where he has no clue what he wants to say. He knocks gently on the wood, avoiding peering through the window in the door.

A hoarse voice calls out “yes?” and he pushes the door open. Feeling a strange tingling along his neck, he turns, only to find himself face to face with the same man from the elevator.

Another blinding smile, and a hand reaches out over his shoulder to hold the door open for him. “It seems we have the same destination, officer.”

Jason swallows thickly, glancing up into those eyes that seem to hold a mischievous spark now. He can’t help the suspicion sneaking into his mind. “What are you doing here?”

The stranger nods towards the flowers in his hand. “I’m here to wish a patient a swift recovery.” And yeah, that part was obvious, but Jason wants to know why this dude is visiting the victim of a crime. Is he a relative? Or maybe the boss of the people who beat her up in the first place and who’s here to finish the job.

His eyes narrow and he squares his shoulders, putting as much authority into his voice as he can. “Are you related to the patient?”

The other seems not the slightest bit bothered by the questioning but his eyebrow arches at the tone. “I am not. But the patient works for my company and I like to look out for my employees in time of need. Surely, you can understand that.”

Jason frowns, mentally sifting through the faces of crime bosses that are pinned to the blackboard in the precinct. None of them seem to match this man, however. “And what company would that be?”

The man’s smile only widens, like he’s enjoying this encounter thoroughly. “Wayne Enterprises. Miss Morton currently works for Wayne Tech as a software engineer. If you wish, I can provide you with proof of my identity. I wouldn’t want to cause you any unnecessary worry, officer-“ he makes a show of peeking at Jason’s name tag. “Officer Todd.”

Jason feels the distinct urge to punch the man in the face. As good looking as he is, the way that he’s practically toying with him here, is making him more than a little pissed. “And you are?” He snaps back, without realizing that he’s digging his own grave here. Of course he’s heard of Wayne Enterprises, they’re basically 60% of Gotham’s infrastructure and Wayne Tech is probably the most successful tech company in the US. And if this dude is saying that he is visiting an employee of _his_ company, that means he’s…

“Bruce Wayne, it’s a pleasure meeting you, officer.” The man’s face is practically beaming with amusement and Jason is torn between the urge to run and the desire to smack that self-assured look right off the other’s face.

He also feels like knocking his head against the wall. For the first time in his life probably, he has no smart comeback and he only frowns in return. “How does Bruce Wayne have the time to visit a regular employee? Aren’t you supposed to be the busiest man in Gotham?”

The man nods, his features suddenly adopting a much more serious expression. “I am very busy, officer. So, maybe we could reschedule this discussion to another time? I think Miss Morton is wondering what we are doing, standing in the doorway like this.”

Jason feels his cheeks flush with both anger and embarrassment. Instead of responding, he only glares at the other man and finally makes his way into the room. Behind him, Wayne follows suit, allowing the door to fall shut.

Miss Morton’s condition isn’t pretty to look at: Her face is swollen and bruised, and her neck has been secured with a tight brace. The rest of her body is hidden underneath the sheets, but Jason can make out the irregular bumps of thick casts.

He clears his throat, as she peers up at him with dark eyes. “Ah, I don’t know if you remember me, Miss Morton. I was there, when uh- this happened.” _Real smooth, Todd_.

The woman nods weakly. “You’re the officer from the scene. Thank you for stepping in. And please, tell Batman that I’m grateful too.”

Jason is just about to tell her that neither the police force, nor he personally have any way of relaying her message or contacting Batman in the first place, when a smooth voice cuts him off.

“I’m sure Batman is glad that you’re doing well, Olishia.” Wayne steps closer to the bed, gently placing the flowers on the nightstand. “I should ask the nurse for a vase-“

The woman’s eyes light up at the sight. “Oh, Mister Wayne. How nice of you to stop by. There’s no hurry, I can ask for one later.”

Bruce Wayne’s smile is so gentle, when he sits down next to the engineer’s bed, chatting about her family and her life, like he knows her on a personal level. It makes Jason wonder if he really pays this much attention to all of his employees. No way, right? Not with a company that employs half of Gotham.

Feeling rather awkward and like he has no other reason for being here, he clears his throat. “I’ll be off. Get well soon, Miss Morton.”

The woman wishes him goodbye and Wayne gives him a friendly nod. There’s still a hint of that mischief in the way his mouth twitches into a smile, when he looks at him and Jason feels something bubble up in his chest that is somewhere between embarrassment and anger.

What an arrogant prick, he thinks to himself, as he trudges down the hallway and towards the elevator. And he’s very glad that he’ll probably never run into the billionaire again, considering they move in vastly different circles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or so he thinks... 
> 
> And I present you Jason Todd, who is 100% ready to fight both Bruce Wayne and Batman.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason meets Bruce Wayne - again. He also gets a new ride and checks out the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'll proofread this at some point. OTL

Nothing out of the ordinary happens the following week. And no, he doesn’t consider the looks he’s getting from Dan and his partner to be anything out of the ordinary because he expected nothing less. On the contrary, he was waiting for Trenton to give him a speech about how “in certain times it’s better not to get involved”. But to his surprise his own partner doesn’t say anything apart from inquiring about his health.

It doesn’t make Jason think that maybe he misjudged the other for a second. He might not be as corrupt as the others but that still doesn’t make him any less of a sexist douche bag. It is one less thing to bother with at least, so he’s somewhat grateful for it.

He gets a couple hours of paperwork assigned, probably because one of their superiors isn’t happy about the trouble he caused – not that it was his fault – but he doesn’t mind staying at his desk rather than heading out for patrol.

Jason ends up hanging out with the receptionists for his lunch a couple of times, not because he finds them to be particularly good company but because he enjoys hearing all about the newest gossip. He’s pretty sure the only reason they keep inviting him along is because they think he’s hot and while that is somewhat flattering, he makes sure to mention on several occasions that he’s not looking for a relationship at the moment, when the topic comes up.

It’s not even a lie. He hasn’t considered looking for someone to date ever since he got out of a rather messy relationship with one of his colleagues at the academy. He’s had a one-night stand here and there but never anything that didn’t end the morning after. As for now, he’s mostly planning on baiting his time until he can request a transfer out of Gotham without looking like he can’t handle the city.

Maybe he’ll give it a try if he runs into someone who suits his type but he knows how hard it is to keep up a decent relationship with the long hours, night shifts and the constant threat of something going wrong on a mission.

Jason insists that he’s perfectly happy with his books and the new Netflix drama he started recently. If he feels lonely, he can always invite himself over to Kori and Roy for dinner or go to one of the pet shelters to play with the animals.

He’s also started digging a little into the Batman, finding that the more he thinks about his encounter with the vigilante the more curious he gets as to his personality. Interestingly enough there are almost no files on the caped crusader in the police databanks or even the precinct’s archive. There’s not really a lot to gain from asking around his colleagues either: Most of them have run into the bat at some point or another, some on several occasions. But all they can agree on is that the dark knight is dangerous and almost super-human in his abilities.

While Jason is still pretty sure that half of the stories are exaggerated, they’re not that unbelievable. After all, Superman exists and that already makes a lot of previously impossible things possible. Not to speak of the other metahumans that have been popping up around the world to either cause havoc or lend a helping hand.

Some of the other cops despise Batman and Jason has heard plenty of cursing when asking about the vigilante. Others join the general opinion of the civilian population in believing that he’s a hero who’s doing great work cleaning up Gotham. And then there are the ones who think he’s not bad but should still be taken in because he’s breaking the law.

He definitely finds himself siding with the second opinion the most. Though he’s not yet sure if he trusts Batman yet. Who knows what else that dude is up to, when he’s not dropping hogtied criminals off in front of the station?

Jason will only believe that someone is truly trying to do good when he’s seen flawless proof. He’s seen too many social workers who claim to be “good guys” turning a blind eye on abuse and violence in the system and only pampering the kids who suck up to them. And yeah, maybe he has trust issues but in a place like Gotham that’s not exactly a bad thing to have, in his opinion.

Almost one and a half weeks after his own encounter with the dark knight, he still hasn’t found out a lot about the vigilante. And, of course, he has absolutely no clue about the person behind the mask. He’s not surprised, after all no vigilante who can’t keep their identity a complete secret could be this successful, right?

He sighs, when he hears heavy footsteps approach and shoves his little notebook back into his pocket, not particularly keen on sharing his investigation with his partner. “Yo, Jason, you gotta stop coming in so early, you’re making all of us look bad, man.” Trenton Wells throws an arm over his shoulder and Jason wonders if he’s somehow travelled all the way back to high school and has to deal with the typical jock versus nerd conflict again. Only that in high school he could run away and, being the fastest in his class, get himself to safety.

He doesn’t really have anything to do at home, so he likes heading to work early, if only to enjoy a couple minutes of getting to pour over his personal research. But he doesn’t say that. “I just like getting my coffee before the morning rush,” he responds instead, subtly shifting his position, so that Trenton Wells arm slides off his back without seeming like he did it on accident. The blond in question, simply slaps his shoulder blade instead and laughs.

“I get it, Todd, you ain’t got some hot piece of ass at home to fix your coffee for work.” Jason has to withstand the urge to roll his eyes and ask what Trenton’s wife would think about being reduced to that. Or is he talking about his girlfriend? Who knows… “Y’know-“ Trenton leans in like he’s trying to tell him something confidential. “I could hook you up with some smokin’ hot girls if you want. My cousin has this friend and she’s a real looker. Just say the word and I’ll get you a date.”

_Oh yeah, ‘cause every girl loves being bartered away for workplace favours._ Jason grins and shakes his head. “Thanks man, I’m good.”

His partner shrugs and raises both hands with his palms out. “Alright. But you know who to ask if you change your mind. Now, let’s head out rookie, we got dirty work to do.”

“Dirty work” in Trenton’s words means traffic controls and enforcing the speed limit along Gotham’s busiest streets. Which is a work that is both repetitive and not the slightest bit enjoyable.

This time however, they’re only two hours into writing up wrongly parked vehicles and watching out for speeding idiots who think that the road belongs to them, when they’re called to the site of an accident a couple of streets away.

It doesn’t seem to be anything serious, Jason finds out on their way and relays to Trenton, who’s driving like they’re chasing a murderer instead: lights flashing and siren blaring. And true to the dispatcher’s words, it looks relatively harmless, more scattered car parts than bodies.

They hurry to block off the street and Jason calls in the EMTs for the two young women who are clearly in shock and a little bruised. The driver of the second vehicle seems fine enough, at least he’s already screaming into his mobile phone, demanding for his insurance to cover the costs of the damage because it was “totally not his fault, that the light switched to red that quickly”.

He gives Trenton a nod and his partner more or less gently made the man get off the phone and answer the officer’s questions. Jason, in the meantime, makes sure to ferry the two women to the side of the road and sit them down on a bench. “You two okay?”

He receives shaky nods in return, and he smiles, ensuring them everything’s going to be alright and he just needs to ask a couple questions. They seem to respond well to a little kindness and answer his questions without any hesitation. Once he’s jotted down their story, Jason offers to call their emergency contacts for them. Both of them have their phones at hand and while he’s making sure to keep an eye on them in case either of them starts showing belated symptoms of trauma, Jason’s job here is pretty much done.

Trenton seems to have done his part of the questioning as well and they meet up in front of the two damaged cars again. “I’ll get someone to clear this up, you go ahead and direct people around the corner until we got this settled. Don’t you think the right one is hot? I’m sure she’d give you her number if-“

Jason just waves it off before his partner could even finish his sentence and heads over to the cars that are waiting impatiently in front of the blockage they put up.

The good thing is that the accident happened just around a corner, so it’s easy to direct everyone around to take the next street instead and be on their way. He basically just has to stand in one spot and wave at the drivers every now and then, urging them to drive on rather than turning into the streets.

The not-so-good thing is that it’s less than a minute before a fancy black car pulls up and a window is rolled down, revealing a face he hasn’t expected to see again so soon.

Bruce Wayne is smiling at him with those brilliant white teeth that could be used to advertise toothpaste and a pair of blue eyes that have strangely hypnotic properties. “Officer Todd, what a pleasure to see you again.”

Jason forces his lips into a polite smile and gestures towards the street. “The street is blocked for now, if your driver could please take the next one, you shouldn’t be delayed very much.”

Wayne seems not the slightest bit bothered by his obviously fake politeness. “Oh, I’m not in a hurry. Just getting back from an important business meeting.”

And while the black car blocking the entrance to the road forces the drivers to take the next street anyway, Jason sees absolutely no reason why this man should be stopping right here to have small talk with him of all people. “Okay, could I please ask you to-“

The billionaire interrupts him, his voice smooth and gentle in a way that makes it hard to even feel offended at being stopped mid-sentence. “Of course, we’ll be on our way in a moment. I was meaning to ask you if you wanted to grab a bite?”

Jason’s thoughts stumble in his head and it takes him a good moment before he even comprehends the question directed at him. _Wait, what??_ “You ah?” He blinks surprised before finally pulling himself together and straightening his shoulders. “I’m on duty, mister Wayne. I’m afraid I can’t get something to eat with you.” And it has to be clear from his voice that he’s entirely not inclined to accept the offer even if he wasn’t at work.

But Wayne only smiles in return. “That’s alright. When do you get off work? I’ll take you out for dinner.”

At this point, he feels like he somehow slipped into some kind of parallel universe because he can’t comprehend what is even happening. Okay, Bruce Wayne is hot, there’s no denying that at all. But he’s also rich as fuck and has absolutely zero reason to ask some random cop out for dinner. That is, unless he’s looking for an opportunity to buy him out or something. But if he’s honest, he didn’t take the man for someone who tries to buy favors off the police department.

“Flattering, but no thank you. Now, please move along.” Jason gets out, past his confusion.

The other doesn’t seem the slightest bit taken aback by the rejection, instead he reaches one hand out of the window and leans up until he can slip something into Jason’s chest pocket. “Call me, if you make up your mind. Goodbye, officer Todd.”

With that, the window rolls up again and the car pulls back into traffic, leaving the officer in question utterly confused and at a loss for words.

He doesn’t remember the piece of paper, Wayne slipped him, until they’re already on their way back to the precinct and when he pulls it out, he finds himself confronted with a neatly designed business card.

The Batman brings in two jewel thieves just an hour later and amongst the buzzing productivity this suddenly fills the precinct with, Jason stuffs the business card back into his pocket and forgets about it there.

* * *

Jason has Thursday and Friday off that week, and he decides to finally buy himself a motorcycle. He had to leave his old but reliable bike behind in Los Angeles and he’s been hesitant to get a new one out of sheer nostalgia. But he’s tired of using public transportation or having his colleagues drop him off after his shifts.

He has a vague idea of what he wants, speed, reliability but doesn’t care particularly about the design. When he sees the red one with the stylized bat that’s clearly supposed to be Batman’s logo, he shakes his head with amusement. Apparently, the vigilante has his own fan club and plenty of merchandise. Though, Jason doubts that the dark knight actually sees any of the money earned from the products featuring his logo. Then again, given the bat’s apparent arsenal, it doesn’t seem like he needs it.

It’s purely because of the good deal he’s getting on the bike and because he likes the way it feels between his thighs, when he slides onto the saddle, that he ends up purchasing it. He’ll probably end up painting over the bat at a later time. Not that he has anything against Gotham’s very own hero, it’s probably not the best thing to be driving around as a cop, he figures.

He takes his new machine out for a real spin and he’s immediately convinced that he’s made the right decision. The bike sounds good and it drives really nicely. And most of all: it allows him to navigate the streets of Gotham without having to worry about the next train leaving.

* * *

He hits up the public library on Friday, more to check if it’s still the same as he remembers. Back during his time of trying to catch up on the years of school he missed, he’d practically lived in the old building, hidden between the high bookshelves and buried in his materials. It quickly turned into his favourite place with its quiet atmosphere and the smell of both old and freshly printed books hanging heavily in the air.

To his surprise, he finds that it has changed quite a bit. The windows were replaced, making the inside of the building far lighter and the interior had been redesigned as well. It looks more modern, less like an old painting come to life and he can’t help the faint disappointment that washes through him at the sight.

Nevertheless, he makes his way over to the information desk to figure out what he’ll have to do for a library card. The desk is empty but he’s not in a hurry, so he figures he’ll just wait for a little bit until someone shows up.

Jason’s eyes wander, trailing over the multitude of flyers stacked on the desk, advertisements for reading nights and a charity auction. Nothing really catches his interest until he sees a little brochure about volunteer work at the library. Before he knows it, he’s picked up the booklet and is thumbing through the pages.

There are a few programs the library is running but on specifically catches his eye. A reading course for orphans and children from less fortunate socioeconomical backgrounds. And hell, if that doesn’t strike a very specific chord with him.

He knows that there’s plenty of other ways that he could spend his free time that are more entertaining than reading to snotty nosed kids but as much as he doesn’t care for people, he has a soft stop for children. Especially the ones who grow up the same way he did.

A teenager with tousled black hair approaches him, a smile on his face and an old-fashioned camera dangling from a strap around his neck. He’s younger than Jason by a couple of years, in his late teens figuring from the softness of his features and the hint of stubble on his cheeks.

“Hey, how can I help you?” The other is basically radiating good mood.

Jason nods, hesitating for a moment before returning the smile politely. “I was looking into getting a library card.”

That earns him an even brighter grin. “Sure thing, let me throw you into the system.”

The teenager chatters on for a couple of minutes, detailing late return fees and opening times. Finally, he hands Jason a shiny new library card that looks exactly like the one he had when he was younger, and it makes him smile instinctively.

“About those volunteer programs…” _Just go for it._ “Do you guy still need help with the reading courses?”

The other practically lights up like a Christmas tree and pulls out a copy of the brochure, Jason looked through earlier. “We do! Are you interesting in volunteering? I’ll have to run you through our database to make sure you’re not on our blacklist. If you have any outstanding criminal charges or a criminal record, you can’t volunteer, but looking at you, I doubt you have.”

Jason raises an eyebrow at that and the teen blushes slightly, nearly stumbling over his words. “I mean, not that you can see if people are criminals but- I mean.”

Amused, Jason pulls out his badge and places it on the counter. “Do you need a reference or something?”

The teenager eyes his badge and types something into the computer. “No, you should be fine, officer. I mean, it’s just procedure but if you could send us some kind of resume that’d be cool! Can you leave me your phone number too? Obviously not because _I_ want it but so I can contact you about the volunteering…”

The ding of the elevator interrupts them, and Jason instinctively turns his head to look. A couple people in business attire exit, judging from the way they act, they probably just got done with a successful business meeting.

Jason immediately notices the tall man in the perfectly fitted suit with the broad shoulders. He looks vaguely familiar, but Jason doesn’t realise why, until the man turned around and he suddenly finds himself caught in the gaze of two intense blue eyes.

The man standing across from him in the lobby of the library is none other than Bruce _fucking_ Wayne.

 _Oh good._ Caught in his thoughts of _I hope he doesn’t think I’m following him or something_ and _what the fuck kinda coincidence is this_ , it takes Jason a moment to pick up that the teenager on the other side of the help desk is still talking to him.

“Officer?”

Jason clears his throat, ducking his head to not seem like he’s staring at the billionaire who’s currently shaking hands with the rest of the businesspeople. “Yeah, what? Sorry.”

“Which of the courses would you be interested in doing? I’m guessing you don’t have much of a stable work schedule?”

Sneaking a glance over his shoulder, he sees that Wayne was is talking and now heading across the lobby in a trajectory that looks suspiciously like it’s leading him directly towards them. “I- Ah, yeah-“

A very familiar and frustratingly smooth voice interrupts them. “Officer Todd, what a pleasant surprise to see you here. I trust Tim here has been helping you out?”

The teenager – Tim – looks from one of them to the other and then back, before grinning. “Hello mister Wayne, you two know each other?”

Bruce steps closer, clearly to throw a glance at the brochure on the desk and his arm brushes along Jason’s making the cop wonder why he’s even surprise by the sheer lack of understanding of the words “personal space” the other is betraying.

Jason cuts in, before the older man can answer: “In passing. And I’ll have to get going-“ He snatches one of the business cards from a plastic holder on the desk and stuffs it into his pocket. “I’ll call you ‘bout the courses.”

And with that, he hurries off towards the exit, involuntarily bumping into Wayne’s shoulder lightly. He ignores the way his cheeks feel suspiciously warm after this encounter and the way he can still feel the touch of the other’s arm against his own.

_What the fuck is this guy’s deal?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Tim appears!
> 
> I love Bruce teasing/bullying Jason way too much...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason gets a temporary new partner, someone commits a grisly murder and Batman appears.

Trenton Wells doesn’t show for his shift the next week and it takes about two hours of Jason running back and forth between his superior and HR before someone tells him that his partner has taken the week off for some “emergency family business”. His wife probably finally found out about his affairs or something along the line. Justice delivered, he thinks to himself and Jason can’t bring himself to feel a second of sympathy for his colleague. 

In the end he’s assigned a new partner until his returns and he can’t say that he’s complaining. Especially, when a slender woman with jet black hair and piercing eyes approaches his desk. She introduces herself as Cassandra Cain and Jason’s first impression is that she’s someone who takes no bullshit. 

His second impression is that she is the best driver he’s met on the force. Especially when she’s zig-zagging her way through the traffic jam on Gotham bridge with blaring sirens and at a speed that would have any driving instructor shaking in their seat. 

Of course he would enjoy it more if they weren’t responding to the call from a frantic young woman who insisted that there was some kind of serious fight going on in the hotel room next to hers and that she heard loud screaming. 

With dispatch telling the woman to remain calm and hide in her bathroom for the time being and the rest of the hotel staff having been advised not to get near the room in question, they have no clue what is actually going on. 

Jason hates going in blind but that’s their job, to be the first at the scene and figure out what the hell is happening. 

Out of the five units in the vicinity, they’re the closest and it doesn’t take more than a couple minutes until they’re coming to a screeching halt on the hotel parking lot. He’s halfway out of the car before Cassandra even turns off the motor, his gun drawn and radio in the other hand. 

“Arrived at the hotel. Heading inside.” 

Being the senior officer, Cassandra takes charge, as soon as they enter the lobby and Jason has no issue falling into step behind her. As per dispatch’s orders, the elevators have been disabled and a pale faced receptionist throws them a set of keys, directing them towards the third floor with a shaky hand.

They head up the stairs with their weapons drawn and a sharp eye on every corner. The staircase is deserted and so is the hallway of the third floor. Something about the situation makes Jason’s skin crawl and he reaches out to tap Cassandra’s upper arm. 

“Got a bad feeling about this one,” he murmurs, and she nods in response, indicating that she’s picking up a similar hunch. 

They inch their way down the corridor until they reach the door to room 306. Despite the screams that the caller reported, the place is eerily quiet, and Jason tightens his hold on his gun, thumb instinctively undoing the safety switch, as his eyes track Cassandra’s movements. 

The other officer gives him a curt nod and positions herself on the other side of the door, gingerly sliding the card through the reader before counting down on her fingers. 

They burst through the door at the count of three, Cassandra’s voice bellowing through the room, as she shouts: “Police! Get your hands in the air!” 

There’s no response and they quickly clear the entrance to the suite, checking the bathroom before moving into the bedroom. 

The sight is nothing for a weak stomach and Jason feels immediately grateful that he didn’t have any breakfast that day. As much as he’s used to grisly scenes and the extreme states a human body can be pushed into, it’s never easy to look upon something like this. 

“Fuck-“ Cassandra curses, rushing over to the lifeless form on the ground, to check for a pulse, while Jason keeps his gun up, ready to take out anyone who might try to take advantage of his colleague’s vulnerability. Not that there’s any way the person is still alive but it’s procedure.

“We got a 10-55 here, need coroner and homicide at the scene ASAP-“ 

She’s interrupted by a noise from the adjacent room and Jason jumps into action immediately, pushing into the walk-in closet. “Freeze!” But when he rounds the corner, all he sees is the figure of a person dropping from the windowsill. “Shit! We got a jumper, possible suspect! 

He rushes to the open window to peer down at the pavement, expecting to see the messy remnants of their murderer sprawled out beneath him. But instead there’s nothing. No sign of anyone crashing into the ground, not a single person in the parking lot. 

Eyes wide, he turns his head to check if there’s any way to climb up from the window or any ledges to move along but all there is, is a smooth wall. 

He reaches for his own radio, mind racing: “Suspect escaped. Got no visual. Heading to secure the crime scene.”

It takes less than fifteen minutes before the parking lot is a mess of flashing lights and the hallway of the hotel is crowded with detectives and officers alike. Between the medical examiner and her assistants, Commissioner Gordon pulls Cassandra and him aside. They repeat their statements for the third time and Gordon’s face darkens when he hears about the disappearing suspect. 

“This is not good,” he murmurs under his breath, before dismissing them and heading into the room to get an update on the ME’s findings. 

They’re approached by a grim looking detective instead, whose tousled brown hair makes it look like she just rolled out of bed, a theory that is further supported by the dark circles around her eyes. “I want you to head upstairs and get statements from the other guests. Keep an eye on anything that looks strange or out of the ordinary, alright?” 

Jason opens his mouth to ask, what exactly the detective is referring to, but she’s already moved on to bully the reporters that are gathering in front of the yellow police tape. “There’s nothing to see here, folks. And if you don’t get out of the way, I’ll have all of you arrested for obstructing this investigation…” 

Cassandra motions for him to follow, before they could hear any more and they make their way to the stairs.

“You think it’s a meta human?” He asks, as they climb up the fourth floor, and she shrugs in return. 

“Who knows. If it is, we’re probably lucky they decided to run. Especially if it’s one of the big ones.” 

The thought makes Jason swallow thickly. He’s never encountered a meta human himself, but he’s heard enough tales of the bad ones. The ones that don’t dress up in fancy costumes to fight crime. Being the one to face someone who can throw cars with one hand or some bullshit, while having only a gun and a taser sounds like a particularly bad idea. 

To his surprise, the fourth floor has far less doors than the third. Instead, there are only three, each adorned with an engraved golden plaque announcing the room number. “Suites,” Cassandra supplies, clearly picking up on his train of thought. “Fancy ones on top of that.” 

Jason raises a questioning eyebrow and the other police officer gives a shrug in response. “I spent a night here for a surveillance job about a year ago.” 

Instead of supplying any additional details, Cassandra approaches the first of the doors, bringing her knuckles against the wood for three quick and loud knocks. Silence. There’s no movement or voices heard from the inside. She waits for a moment, before trying once more. When no one answers, the two of them move on to the next door further down the hall. 

The first three suites are either unoccupied or the guests are out. Considering they’re in the heart of a district known as a hotspot for nice restaurants and popular nightclubs, the latter isn’t a very unlikely scenario. Only when Cassandra knocks on the last door, does someone answer. 

Even with his sexual preference, Jason can’t help but find himself impressed by the beauty of the woman who opens the door for him. Dark, silky black hair flows over shoulders that are left halfway exposed by the thin bathrobe she’s wearing. Equally dark eyes greet them with mild suspicion but not the slightest sign that they interrupted her sleep. There’s no doubt that the woman has not only the figure of a supermodel but also the flawless skin of one. “Yes?” 

Momentarily, he finds himself waiting for Cassandra to speak before glancing at his partner and finding her face ever so slightly flushed and her lips pressed together tightly.  _ Ah, _ he thought to himself, having a distinct idea what is going on in his colleague’s head. Despite the grim situation, he can’t help but feel amusement bubble up in his chest. Yeah, if he wasn’t differently inclined, he’d probably be in a similar position. 

“GCPD,” he quickly supplied, holding up his badge for the woman to inspect. “We’d like to ask you a couple questions, if you don’t mind.” 

The woman introduces herself as Talia al Ghul, a wealthy heiress who has travelled to Gotham for business reasons and has only been staying at the hotel for a couple of days. According to her, the screaming had started only a couple of minutes before the police was alerted, which is when she called the lobby to complain about the noise. After hearing the sirens, she kept an eye on the window that faced the parking lot but hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary 

With Cassandra regaining her composure, she hands Miss al Ghul her card and urges the woman to call if she remembers anything at all. Then, they take down her details and promise that the hotel will remain under surveillance for the next few days to ensure that the culprit won’t return. 

Before they reach the bottom of the stairs to return to the third floor, Cassandra reaches for his arm. “About what just happened…,” she starts and Jason shakes his head before she can even finish the sentence. 

“Not a word,” he can’t stop the grin from tugging at the corners of his lips. 

He offers her a fist and she bumps it with her own, the hint of a smile lingering on her features. “Appreciated.” 

Jason bites his tongue before he can throw out some dumb joke about solidarity and together they make their way back to the crowd. The body has already been removed and with the room being combed for any traces of evidence, their superior ends up sending them back to the station to fill out the official reports.

The traffic jam is still blocking Gotham bridge and by the time they’re back at the precinct, it’s past three in the morning. Which is about an hour after his shift was supposed to end but he has no illusions that he’s getting home anytime soon. Not, when he has to fill out two report sheets and write down a proper statement about what exactly went down at the crime scene. 

* * *

Cassandra finishes before him and he offers to take her reports to the Commissioner’s office when he’s done. She thanks him with a curt nod, clearly just as tired and  _ done _ as he is. With both the surveillance teams, the patrols and the officers still busy at the hotel, the station is eerily empty. Jason doesn’t mind it. On the contrary, he could use a moment of peace and quiet. 

Gordon isn’t in his office but the door is unlocked, so he slips inside to leave the reports on his desk for him to find in the morning. 

“Where’s Gordon?” 

The voice startles him badly enough, that he flinches, dropping the stack of papers in his hands to scatter across the floor. “Shit, fuck!” He yells, eyes wide and his heart hammering in his throat as he turns to face the window. “What the fuck?!” 

The dark figure climbs through the window with graceful ease and Jason is about ready to throw the next best thing. “You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!” 

Batman seems to eye him for a moment and Jason wonders if he’s pissed the other off. Instead of responding however, the vigilante stalks over to the cluttered desk. “Where’s the Commissioner?” 

Jason huffs out a harsh breath. “Dunno, probably still at the hotel. Guessing you already heard about that one.” 

The other hums in return, a deep sound that sends a shiver down the policeman’s spine. Yeah, he’s definitely too tired for this and it has to be written all across his face. “Just tell me what you want before I arrest you for breaking and entering.” 

The masked face turns towards him again and even through the cowl Jason can feel the dark knight’s gaze lingering on him. “I need information on the murder.” 

Okay, so he really could’ve really figured that part out himself. “‘Course.” He leans down to pick up the scattered papers. “You got a phone? With a camera I mean, not because I want your number or something.” 

When he doesn’t receive a reply, he simply drops the reports on the desk. “Okay, here’s the deal I’m gonna go home. As long as these are still here when Gordon shows up, no one’s got anything to complain about. Just make sure whatever asshole did that gets what they got coming, alright?” 

With that, Jason turns to head back into the hallway. Before he can leave the room a gruff voice says behind him: “Thank you. This will help.”

The remark surprises him and to his utter shock, his heart jumps in his chest.  _ Whoa there _ , he thinks to himself, as he slams the office door behind him, _ no need to get all excited over a little praise. _

Shaking his head, he runs a hand over his face, trying to wake himself up at least somewhat for the drive home. At this point, he really just wants to throw himself onto his comfortable bed and sleep for twenty hours straight. Which, admittedly, is a desire he feels quite often.  _ Who says chronic fatigue isn’t sexy? _

With the cold wind tugging at his clothes, he zips his trusty leather jacket up to his chin as he exits the building. His bike is parked in the smaller side street around the back of the station. Even though it’s a short walk, it’s enough for the icy rain to soak through his uniform pants.  _ Great. Praise Gotham for its wonderful weather. _

For a moment he feels tempted to call a cab instead but he doesn’t get to think about it properly, before the thundering roar of a powerful engine reaches his ears. Jason barely has the time to take a step backwards and away from the large puddle in front of him, when a sleek, black vehicle skids to a halt in front of him. 

Mouth hanging open with awe, he can’t help but stare at the car - _ fuck no, that’s an actual tank _ \- in front of him. Again, he’s heard of Batman’s ride but seeing it in person is a different story entirely. Honestly, he would suck the dude’s dick to drive that thing. Okay, if Batman is anywhere near as hot as everyone claims, Jason would probably suck his dick for free but that’s beside the point. 

A tinted window slides down and he can spot the outline of that sharp mask in the dim light. “Get in.” 

It takes a minute before the words sink in and even longer for Jason to figure out what the hell he’s supposed to say in return. “What?”  _ Smart… _

Batman clearly has no patience for the slow workings of his brain as his voice is cool and commanding when he repeats: “Get in. I’m giving you a ride home.” 

“Uh… I’m good. I got a ride. But thanks-” 

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. “You’re half asleep, officer Todd. It’s against the law to drive in your state. You’re a danger to yourself and others.” 

And, really, in any other situation he would’ve shot back that he is certainly able to still handle his vehicle without endangering anyone and he knows the law very well, thank you. But the cold is seeping through his clothes with every moment spent putting up a fight and getting a ride home in a dry, warm car rather than on his bike does sound incredibly tempting. Plus, he doesn't exactly want to get on Batman’s bad side.

"Alright, alright," he finally exclaims, raising his hands in a gesture of defeat before making his way to the passenger side. He's glad that the door opens automatically as he can’t find a handle of any sort. Damn, he knows at least a dozen people who would kill for this kind of technology or the money to afford it. Definitely military grade if not better. 

He sinks into the passenger seat and the car comes to life with a powerful growl. "Wow, this is comfortable!" Jason leans back, impressed by the way the seat adjusts to support his position. 

"Seat belt." The vigilante only growls in response and this time the police officer complies without arguing. The strength of the engine vibrates through the metal and his body as Batman pulls out of the alley, threading himself into the nighttime traffic with ease. 

The warmth of the heater wraps around him like a blanket and he sighs, letting his head fall back against the backrest. “Man, this is luxury…” Jason grins, taking the moment to study the other’s profile. There’s just a hint of stubble around his chin, indicating that he’s had a long day and his lips look soft. _ Get you a man who knows the benefits of chap stick. _ Judging from what he can see of the other’s skin in the dim light, the man clearly takes care of himself. 

“Are you having fun staring?”

The remark makes him realise just how obviously he’s been eyeing the other and he hurries to turn his head to look out of the window instead. His cheeks feel and he hopes that Batman doesn’t think anything of it. Obviously, anyone would stare if they got to sit next to a famous hero. 

Jason only notices that the dark knight hasn’t asked for his address at all when they’re already rounding the corner into his street. 

Raising an eyebrow, Jason wonders for a moment if he should be worried or flattered. He settles on a little bit of both. “Do I even ask how you know my address?” 

Batman lets out a grunt, bringing the car to a stop in front of the run-down apartment building. “Police database.” 

Yeah, no, that doesn’t make it any better. “Okay… Thanks for the ride, I guess.” 

Again, the door opens without him having to touch anything and he heaves himself out of the comfortable seat. He wonders if the vigilante sleeps in his vehicle a lot and that’s why it’s so comfy. 

The dark knight doesn’t respond and speeds off as soon as Jason has made it to the front door.  _ What a gentleman, making sure I get inside safely. _ He snorts with amusement before heading inside and making his way up the stairs to his apartment. Given it’s the middle of the night the building is deadly quiet and he doesn’t run into any other tenants. It’s a blessing because he’s tired enough that any casual conversation would be torture right now. 

He throws his soaked clothes over the groaning radiator and cranks up the heat before dragging himself into the bathroom to get ready for bed.  _ Did I really just get a casual ride from Batman? Is that a normal thing he does?  _ Jason shakes his head. This city has only gotten weirder since he left and it was a pretty damn crazy place back then already. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOO! Finally a new chapter! Sorry for the delay, I've been super busy the last months with zine stories and other stuff. 
> 
> Which reminds me: Thanks to my significant other I finally have a twitter, YaY! Follow me for updates and more info on all the cool stuff I'm involved in currently! (Including a Jason Todd zine and a Halloween Batfam zine!) https://twitter.com/OnlyJaybirb

**Author's Note:**

> While I'm still working on "Jason Todd Comes Home" I'm offering this beginning of a thing for your consideration.


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